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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26400940">learning the little things (like love)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmads/pseuds/stellarmads'>stellarmads</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, also tim is adhd and jon is autistic, brief character death ment, flirtatious workplace relationships, tim can't keep it professional, tma is a workplace drama, yeah it's danny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:08:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26400940</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmads/pseuds/stellarmads</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim finally learns what it's like to catch feelings. Idk, it's soft and it's happy, what more do you want.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Tim Stoker - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives Fanfiction</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>learning the little things (like love)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*pounds my fist against the table* let them be happy goddamnit.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim Stoker never was a patient man.  </p><p>A ball of infectious energy, from a young age he had learned he merely needed to flash his coyish smile, make a small wisecrack, and he would get his way.  That’s not to say he took unnecessary advantage.  Rather, Tim had an uncanny ability to make people feel heard, and that often led to very agreeable exchanges.  Yes, some looked at him a little differently after they put two and two together and realized there was a reason Tim’s latest fling was a mortician from a relevant investigation. But Tim is confident in himself, and understands what they do not.  As long as there’s no mess, no blood, no drama, it’s okay to use a means to reach an end.  The only thing you need is determination and a good sense of humor, and bingo; the world’s your oyster. </p><p>So when Jon comes to his flat one night and announces that he and Georgie had a “mutual separation”, a goal slowly forms in Tim’s mind.  Of course, first comes the concern and sympathy, ushering Jon in for a cup of tea and a worn knitted blanket that he pulls out from the hall closet. Of course he gives Jon plenty of time and support, a shoulder to cry on. Although Jon is Jon, and after that evening, little is said of the matter without Tim’s prodding. </p><p>As the weeks give way to months, Tim finally allows himself to do something he’d always avoided.  He respected Jon, and when he had first met him, Tim’s impression was of an adorably stuck up academic, with hair so long that all Tim could think was how he wanted to braid it.  </p><p>It had been such a random thought, but it had stuck with Tim all these years.  Of course, as he had gotten to spend time with Jon, he learned a few things about the pretty man. First, Jon, rather than stuck up, was just incredibly, and admittedly endearingly, emotionally obtuse. Second, Jon preferred buns to braids, but he did admit to braiding his hair after he washed it, encouraging those silver streaked locks to take a sleek look.  And third, he was in a relationship with someone; Georgie Barker.  </p><p>After this information was uncovered, Tim had admittedly delved into her entire life, as far back as he could trace. When it became clear that Georgie seemed like a very decent person, running her own paranormal podcast, having gone to medical school, Tim had felt a fool.  And a little bit of a creep.  If Jon was happy, why was he looking to homewreck? </p><p> </p><p>So after what he considers to be an acceptable mourning period, Tim finally allows himself to pine after Jonathan Sims. </p><p>He feels like a ridiculous stereotype of some office drama, sneaking glances at Jon when he thinks his boss isn’t looking. Often, he can’t help staring, caught up in how Jon pushes his bangs up out of his face, rather than behind his ears. Slowly, the curls slide back down until Jon impatiently pushes them back again, too busy reading or putting together a report to be bothered. Jon never seems to look up, never sparing him a glance, and Tim pushes down fears of unrequited affections. </p><p>Tim learns lots of things about Jon over the next month.  </p><p>Jon takes his tea with honey.  At first Tim had assumed this was a healthier alternative choice.  Then they go out for coffees at lunch one day, Tim’s suggestion, and Jon orders an earl gray, double steeped.  Tim starts to make a comment about it being too bitter for Jon, and although he internally curses himself for being so obvious about his attentive gaze, Jon seems not to notice anything amiss. Instead, he tells Tim that he actually quite dislikes sweet things.  It’s curious, but Tim doesn’t press the subject, afraid he’ll let on how much he knows about Jon’s tea habits.  Worried Jon wouldn’t say yes to another lunch break together. </p><p>After a few days of more careful observation, Tim realizes Jon only takes honey around statements, rubbing his throat after, voice gravelly from reading in that low monotone. The honey is a practical use, not a personal enjoyment. The level of adoration he feels when he puts it together catches him off guard, and he internally scolds himself for such schoolboy behavior. </p><p>Next, Tim learns Jon wears fuzzy socks.  It’s an accident, Jon pulling his leg up to retie his shoe, and Tim catches a glimpse of green and gray striped fuzzy material. Tim can’t help it, laughing, and Jon glances up at him, brow furrowed, asking what’s funny.  Tim replies simply in between giggles. </p><p>“You...fuzzy socks.”  </p><p>He dissolves into another fit of delighted laughter when Jon’s cheeks flush dark. </p><p>Jon loses himself to his work. This is not an entirely new revelation to Tim, but admittedly he had never noticed to what extent his boss could lose himself. Tim has found he can all but lay himself upon the desk and stare up at Jon, and the quiet man will not notice.  The statements wrap him up so completely, and Tim sometimes catches himself dozing off, lulled to sleep by a beautiful face and voice as deep and as strong as an undercurrent.  </p><p>Information comes faster and faster as he slowly worms himself closer to Jon.  Lunch break coffees soon become weekend coffees.  Tim is proud of himself when he convinces Jon to come out for drinks one night, and even prouder when Jon opts to crash at Tim’s place rather than take the long tube trip back to his own flat. When Jon starts leaving the door to his office propped open, Tim takes it as encouragement to pop in on his boss.  He brings an earl gray with honey to slide over any half arsed excuses he could make for visiting.  And perhaps Tim is being too hopeful, but he thinks he can see a slight smile on Jon’s face when Tim makes his tri-daily detours. </p><p>They continue like this, friendship building, and although Tim never stops seeing his goal, he thinks it is enough to make Jon laugh as much as he does. </p><p> </p><p>Then it’s Tim’s birthday.  It’s a bitter occasion for him.  Danny had always made the time to spend the entire twenty four hours with him, often barhopping or going on some ridiculous London scam tour.  </p><p>The morning is bleak and Tim numbly goes through his daily commute, not even registering when he’s sat down in the Archives, a few research requests already piled on his desk. He’s going through the motions, trying not to agonize on exactly why this day feels so empty, why he’s not requested the time off.  He desperately hopes no one will try to surprise him, hopes he’s kept his birthday a close enough secret.  </p><p>Several hours into his shift, he jumps when he hears a light rapping on the door.  Dread fills his chest and he braces himself for a cheery congratulations, or worse, balloons. When the door opens, he cannot stop the automatic release of tension from his shoulders. Jon is in the doorway.  He looks confused, a little worried, and Tim forgets his own misery for a moment, leaning forward. </p><p>“Jon? What’s wrong?”</p><p>Jon opens his mouth, furrows his brow even deeper,  then closes his mouth. Opens it. Closes it again. Finally he seems to settle on a decision, stepping forward into the office and closing the door behind him.  He points to the chair sat across from Tim’s desk.</p><p>“May I sit?”</p><p>Tim nods, feeling just as confused as Jon looks. Jon settles in the chair, clearing his throat awkwardly, hands twisting before falling limp in his lap. </p><p>“Tim…” he begins carefully, too lightly, and Tim’s thoughts are already racing, assuming the worst.  Jon’s uncomfortable with Tim’s approaches, he’s finally noticed his borderline obsessive interest in his boss, and here he was to reprimand him and remind him of professional workplace environments and relationships. </p><p>Instead, Jon continues, “Have I done something to upset you?” </p><p>This isn’t what Tim was expecting, and for a moment he chokes on his own air. </p><p>“S-Sorry boss?” </p><p>Jon flushes for some inexplicable reason, and Tim wants to reach across the table and feel if his cheeks are as warm as they look. Jon’s fingers go back to twisting and pulling at themselves, and Tim thinks that, professionally, this dynamic should be switched. </p><p>“Well...You... normally drop by in the morning.  And... it’s not that you have to, although don’t get me wrong, I really do appreciate the tea, helps with the frogginess, but that’s neither here nor there, it’s just…” He sounds as lost as some of the people that come in to give statements.  </p><p>Tim should reassure Jon, he knows this. But Tim has never been the best at reigning in reactions, and the relieved laughter that shakes his frame seems to confuse Jon more, although his posture seems to relax a bit from his worried hunch.  Finally, Tim calms and tries to figure out how to respond. </p><p>“No! No! It’s just…” </p><p>The reality of the situation filters back in and he sobers.  A moment of silence stretches between them, and Jon prods. </p><p>“It’s just?” </p><p>Tim can’t not answer then.</p><p>“It’s my birthday today.”</p><p>Jon blinks.  “Oh? I...I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.” </p><p>Tim doesn’t know why it tumbles out of his mouth as blunt as it does. </p><p>“My brother always spent the day with me, but he’s dead now.” </p><p>The silence that now looms between them, filling the beige walls of the office is uncomfortable, and Tim thinks this is the first time he’s felt uneasy in Jon’s presence.  Exposed. </p><p>Jon, never good with delicate situations, seems to take a moment to decide what to say, stuttering slightly. </p><p>“I-I had no idea.  I’m so sorry Tim, do...do you need the day off?”</p><p>Tim shakes his head vehemently at the idea of spending the day alone, without any workload to distract him, and although words don’t pass between them, Jon nods, seeming to understand.  </p><p>It’s quiet again. More comfortable, as Jon chews his lip, contemplative, before standing up abruptly.  </p><p>“I’ve got an extra chair in my office if you’d like some company.  I’m a bit rubbish at keeping people entertained, but at least you’re not...alone…” He trails off, panic starting to seep into his voice and Tim realizes all at once that they’ve both been playing the same long game.  Jon is just as nervous as he is, but he’s never heard Jon invite someone into his life, his work before. Not even Georgie.  And maybe that means less than Tim would like it to.  Maybe they’ll stay close friends and nothing else will bloom. </p><p> And Tim, finally letting his goal rest, settles in the moment, finds himself tucked into the corner of Jon’s office.  The quiet ticking of the clock behind Jon’s head, the shuffle of papers and steady breath.  He doesn’t realize when he falls asleep, doesn’t recall closing his eyes.  </p><p>When he wakes, there’s a blanket draped across him and Jon is quietly reading a statement.  </p><p>Tim allows himself to sink deeper into the chair, chin tucked into the blanket as Jon reads him back to sleep.  </p><p>This is enough for Tim.  For now.</p>
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